Jagged
by Cymoril Avalon
Summary: A chance encounter escalates beyond anyone's control. The ice had been broken and there's no going back. Silentshipping. AU.


Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh.

* * *

She shouldn't have been there. 

That was his first hazy thought as he stared down at her prone form, slumped across his bed, only the gentle rise and fall of her chest assuring him that he hadn't killed her.

He'd been in the throes of a nightmare, one that was long familiar to him but lent strength due to his proximity to that damn tower. It was one of the reasons he slept as infrequently as he would manage; even in his dreams, he couldn't escape his stepfather's influence. It was also why he was so determined to meet Yuugi in the finals on top of the tower and defeat him, essentially taking the past and tearing it into shreds. Only then, he felt, would he be free to move on.

Which currently led to numerous sleepless nights and tortured hours when he managed to snatch some rest. Even Mokuba had learned not to disturb him.

And the girl had been stupid enough to enter his room – how had she gotten in, anyway? – and touch him. He hadn't meant to lash out, but he had, and there she was, and for once, Seto Kaiba didn't know what to do.

It wasn't as if the presence of a girl sprawled across his bed was unusual, but considering who this redhead was, the anxiety constricting his chest made little sense. She was Jounouchi's kid sister, likely possessing almost as few brain cells as the blonde duelist, and beneath his notice. She'd been worthy of brief interest when she'd pleaded for medical attention for that white-haired boy – Bakura Ryou, his name was, right? An adequate duelist, nothing more – but even that had been fleeting.

He had more important things to deal with than one quiet girl.

But now that she was close, he could study the strands of her hair, admire the way they looked against his pale skin as he slid his fingers through them. She was a pretty little thing, looking nothing like the degenerate who shared her blood, and he could easily recall the nervous hesitation in her voice when she'd spoken up. He had to admire her gumption; not only had she approached him of her own free will, but she'd also shown him the proper respect, unlike the others.

But she didn't belong here, in his room, in his bed. And she certainly should have put on some more clothing before breaking and entering. Forethought was clearly not coded into her DNA.

Where was Isono, who was supposed to be guarding his door? He couldn't have possibly let the girl in. Perhaps the man had wandered off for a cup of coffee, figuring no one was pathetic enough to wander the blimp in the dead of night, or he'd gone to check up on Mokuba. If that was the case, then Kaiba must have forgotten to lock the door behind him. But then, didn't they lock automatically?

It didn't matter, in the end, how she'd gotten in. She was there, and Kaiba wasn't the type to dwell on things he couldn't change. Instead, he typically took the information at hand and ran with it, bullying his way along to ensure the end result was what he chose.

The ideal route here was to remove the girl from his presence before one of her annoying friends discovered she was here, however unlikely it was that another member of the pack was awake. Kaiba was certain he'd never hear the end of it.

But something stayed his hand. It might have been curiosity, not so much towards _how _she'd gotten in, but_why_. What would have driven her to seek him out at such an hour, well aware that there were duels scheduled for early the next day? It must have been urgent, else he imagined she'd have stayed wherever it was she lurked and left him alone. Perhaps it had been boredom, as he couldn't imagine Jounouchi made for good company.

And he'd repaid her likely brief bout of courage with a blow to the head. Kaiba couldn't help but smile wryly; he doubted anyone would have been surprised, given his reputation.

It was clear that he wouldn't receive answers any time soon, so Kaiba figured that since he was awake, he might as well take advantage of it. Rubbing the soreness out of his eyes – he'd only slept for a few hours, and he wasn't entirely sure when he had last rested – he slid out of bed, stretching his long legs and peering down at the girl for another few moments.

Decision made, he carefully lifted her, placing her in the position he'd just vacated, and pulled the blankets up around her shoulders. She looked so peaceful, as if she were in repose rather than knocked out, but the presence of a blooming bruise on the side of her face broke the illusion. How hard had he hit her? Perhaps her head had also cracked the wall; that would explain it more than sheer brute force.

Reaching down, he threaded his fingers through her hair again, unable to help himself, then smoothly turned and headed to a nearby couch. His deck lay on the table in front of the couch, a few cards spread next to a mug of coffee long grown cold. Grimacing at it, he briefly considered warming it up or brewing a fresh pot, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, he threw himself onto the couch and buried his nose in cards and strategies and the taste of ultimate victory.

It was, essentially, the only way he could keep his mind off of the redhead dozing in his bed.

* * *

She came to a few hours later, bleary-eyed and confused. First she took in the bed she was laying in, a pillow propped behind her head, the sheets softer than anything she'd ever felt before. The unfamiliarity rang warning bells in her mind, and she inhaled sharply, trying to disguise the sound. The room was just as stark as Mai's, decoration-wise, but had more furniture, and the bed she was in was far larger. 

And, of course, the other occupant really wouldn't have been in Mai's room at all.

Pushing herself up to a sitting position, Shizuka winced and touched her head, wondering why it was hurting. The side of her face felt tender, too, and a hiss escaped when she touched it. What was she doing here? Why was she in pain?

And why was Kaiba staring at her as if she'd sprouted wings and a beak? He seemed almost…afraid.

Then she remembered: she'd gotten it into her head to find Kaiba and thank him for intervening with the other duelist, and to ask him to treat her brother in a more congenial manner. She hadn't been entirely sure how to make her case for the latter, but once she'd decided and gotten the courage to actually approach him, impulse had taken hold of her.

She'd known, in the back of her head, that if she hesitated or questioned herself even for a minute, she'd have found an excuse to stay planted next to Mai, watching and waiting for the woman to wake up. It had been silly, of course, to dash off without a plan, or without even seeing what time it was, not even considering that her actions were incredibly rude. It almost entirely went against her nature, but then, on occasion, she did act like her brother.

She just tried to hide it, more often than not. She loved him dearly, but he desperately needed to learn some manners.

And here she was, in Kaiba's room, staring back at the man with something akin to panic. She clutched the fallen blanket up to her chin as if she were bare beneath it, and opened her mouth once, twice, three times, closing it each time without saying a word.

Small details jumped out at her: Kaiba's hair was wet, small droplets falling across his skin and dampening his shoulders; he was in what appeared to be pajamas, the silk rippling with every slight movement; the air smelled fresh, like fruit just picked from the garden; the blanket was thicker than her clothing, and likely cost more than anything she owned. The CEO looked tired, dark circles bruising beneath his eyes, and there was a tenseness to him she wasn't accustomed to seeing.

"I'm sorry."

It was the first thing out of her mouth, the only thing she seemed able to force through her tight throat. She wasn't sure specifically what she was apologizing for, but it seemed like a good place to start.

Kaiba just continued staring at her with slightly more interest than before. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he leaned casually against a doorframe leading to whatever room he'd just come from, never taking his eyes off of her. He no longer appeared so tense, and now he regarded her in a far more predatory manner. It made her shiver, goosebumps covering her flesh.

She'd known he wasn't one to speak unless he had something important to say – or a reason to gloat, or prod her brother into a temper – but this was ridiculous. Her mind seemed to move sluggishly, and she grasped at fading straws, desperate to fill the silence.

"I'm sorry," she began again, the words coming quickly and only eventually slowing down as she got a better grasp on what she wanted to say; either that, or she realized how flighty she sounded. "I know I interrupted your sleep, and I really shouldn't have barged in when you didn't answer but Isono-san said you wouldn't mind, and…I knocked, you know, I really did…but I wanted to speak to you and I was afraid that if I turned around, I'd never come back and the door was unlocked and…"

Her words cut off like a sieve and she flushed, dropping her gaze. It was difficult forming coherent thoughts with his blue eyes piercing through her.

"And now…it seems I must have gotten ill, or something, and inconvenienced you even more…." Shizuka easily recalled how he'd looked tangled in his bedding, skin flushed and sweaty, and how frightened she'd been that something was wrong. She'd tried to wake him, not even thinking twice about her decision, and then…

Nothing. Her mind conveniently skirted any potential violence on Kaiba's part, instead assuming that she was at fault. It was easy, finding excuses for her current situation that placed the blame squarely on her shoulders. After all, she'd had years of practice.

She looked up again and found that he hadn't moved, but there was an air of anticipation about him now. Moistening her lips, she continued.

"Uhm. I wanted to ask you something."

More silence. _Kaiba-san really needs to learn some basic social skills_, she mused.

"I've seen the way you treat onii-chan." That got her a raised eyebrow in return, which emboldened her slightly. "It's mean, and honestly, I thought better of you."

Now it sounded as if she were chiding him, but she couldn't seem to stop.

"Couldn't you please be nicer to him? He really is a good duelist, and he's trying awfully hard to improve, and he looks up to you. He'll never admit it, of course, but he does, and he respects you as a duelist, so why can't you do the same? Please?"

Amusement painted his features, and he pushed away from the doorframe, strolling over to the bedside. After a moment's hesitation, he sat beside her, twisting so that he could still watch her.

And still said nothing. It was disconcerting.

Biting her lower lip now, and not noticing how his eyes immediately zeroed in, Shizuka tried again. "Kaiba-san? What…what were you dreaming about?" It wasn't what she had initially meant to ask, but she couldn't take it back now.

This time, his response was to lean in and kiss her.

Shizuka froze, eyes widening, blanket pooling around her waist, and for several unsteady heartbeats, she didn't respond. Having never shared a kiss with anyone before, she'd always imagined it taking place in a more romantic setting, with someone who loved her. Instead, it was on the blimp, with Seto Kaiba.

After some gentle coaxing, Shizuka responded, pushing away the shock and discovering that she enjoyed the taste of his lips. Thus, when he pulled away, she let out a disappointed whimper.

He was staring at her again, this time with something unfamiliar in his gaze. Flushing, Shizuka looked away, then gave a start when his fingers stroked over her cheek in a strangely possessive manner.

"Is that a yes?" she asked softly.

Kaiba chuckled before deftly avoiding her question. "You wanted to know what I was dreaming about?"

Shizuka looked over at him, trying and failing to hide her surprise. "Yes."

Kaiba hesitated, emotions warring on his face. Then he nudged her. "Scoot over. This may take a while."

* * *

He'd lost. 

It was, as always, difficult to grasp; not necessarily who he'd lost to, since Yuugi was likely the only opponent worthy of defeating Seto Kaiba, but the sheer fact that _he had lost_.

His fist hit the wall, and a swear soon followed.

The duel had meant everything to him, his symbolic shedding of the yoke his stepfather had fitted him with so many years ago. And once again, when it was had come down to the wire, when everything hinged on his success, he'd lost.

Just like he'd lost when dueling Pegasus for his brother.

Just like he'd lost when dueling Noah for his brother.

Kaiba wasn't used to feeling like a failure, and his ego was attempting to brush this loss under the table as it had managed to do with every other occasion that hadn't gone to his liking. But it wasn't working. His mind continually swirled around each and every single loss, rubbing salt into open wounds, and he slammed his fist against the wall again, momentarily oblivious to the fact that he had an audience.

When he lifted his eyes, he wasn't pleased.

That damn girl was staring at him, compassion in her amber eyes. She wasn't supposed to be there. She had supposedly been keeping vigil at Mai's side, hoping the ornery duelist would decide to wake up from her beauty nap, and keeping an eye on her idiot brother at the same time. So why was she standing here, once again someplace she shouldn't be, watching him?

And why couldn't he look away?

"Kaiba-san," she started to say, but his growl cut her off.

"No."

He didn't need it. He didn't want to have to tolerate her sympathy, her likely baseless assertion that she had oh so hoped he'd win.

He didn't need her pity.

"But…"

"No," he cut her off again, pushing himself away from the wall and stalking over. Startled, the girl backed away, but Kaiba was faster. Quickly invading her personal space, he pressed her up against the wall opposite the one he'd abused, pushing her into it, staring down at her as if everything had been her fault.

It was so easy, too, to glare down at her and let his frustrations edge their way into his actions. She was there, so warm and convenient, and he needed an outlet. It wasn't fair, of course, but as Kaiba had experienced time and time again, life wasn't fair.

It was about time this stupid girl learned that.

"Go back to your friends," he snarled, though he didn't allow her any room to do as he demanded. "Go back to your brother, and stop interfering with things that are none of your business."

Her confusion intensified, and she tried to speak again.

"Or do you think that just because we kissed, that you are now allowed to pry into my business?" He sneered, deliberately cruel, trying to harden his heart against the pain in her gaze. He should never have indulged himself last night – or had it been early this morning? – and he should never have allowed himself to grow even the least bit attached. It made no sense, happening far too quickly for him to adequately crush and grind into dust.

But somehow, knowing he was hurting her hurt him.

Which was clearly an indication that his harsh words were necessary. He couldn't have the girl growing too fond of him, getting thoughts in her head of romance and flowers and whatever other insipid things girls dreams of when he had absolutely no intention of participating in her fantasy. Pointedly side-stepping the fact that he'd likely spawned this in a moment of weakness, he mentally pinned the blame on her, determined to take out his frustration and anger and feeling of helplessness on the girl.

He should never have given in and opened up to her. He should never have allowed any of it to escalate to the level it had. He should never have…

She should never have entered his room.

There were tears in her eyes now. Kaiba gritted his teeth and pressed on.

"I lost the duel," he admitted casually, as if it didn't matter to him, as if moments ago he hadn't been swearing like a sailor and trying to break a hole in the wall of the tower. "But that doesn't give you the right to smother me in your_sympathy_." He spoke the word like something dirty, held at a far distance to keep from soiling his clothing.

He had to put a stop to this.

So why did he want nothing more than to stop, wrap his arms around her, and apologize into her hair? How could this girl, in the span of less than twenty-four hours, have managed to get so deeply embedded under his skin? He was stronger than that, his skin thicker, his defenses flawless.

Right?

"I'm sorry."

The words were likely reflexive on her part – the girl seemed fond of apologizing for everything, as evidence by her first spoken words in his room – but it struck him like a blow.

She was sorry.

She was _sorry_.

Before he could think rationally, his hand gripped her wrist and he dragged her away, ignoring her increasingly worried protestations. Into the elevator, down the tower, outside, into the blimp, through the hallways, Kaiba dragged her, oblivious to how painful his grip was, or the way she was struggling to get away.

He blew past surprised guards and paused in front of his door only long enough to retrieve a key card from his pocket. As soon as the light switched from red to green, he opened it, flinging the helpless girl inside.

Shizuka immediately fled to the other side of the room, but Kaiba was quick enough to catch her before long. In a way, her fright angered him even further, as did the feel of her trembling against him; did she really think he would hurt her?

His destination was clear before he pushed her onto the bed, pinning her down beneath his weight, bringing them both back to where this all started.

He was breathing heavy by the time he paused, staring down at the girl. Both the angry bruise and the tears in her eyes were enough to make him flinch.

"What are you doing?"

Indeed, what was he doing? His grip on her shoulders relented as his anger receded, leaving an emotion he wasn't used to dealing with.

Seto Kaiba started to cry.

* * *

To be continued... 


End file.
